


A Word So Wrongfully Abused, or: Symbiotic/Parasitic

by kelly_goosecock



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Depression, Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_goosecock/pseuds/kelly_goosecock
Summary: Life seems to be a never-ending stream of disappointments for Dojima.
Relationships: Adachi Tohru/Dojima Ryotaro
Comments: 3
Kudos: 96





	A Word So Wrongfully Abused, or: Symbiotic/Parasitic

**Author's Note:**

> i read exactly one dojima/adachi fic and decided i was going to write this. i haven't read any other ones, so sorry in advance if it's similar to someone else's.
> 
> (p4 spoilers it's an old game ok)  
> this is intended to be read under the assumption that the events of the game continue mostly the same  
> i.e. adachi still is evil. i thought if these two got together it wouldn't be cute, it would actually be pretty tragic, which isn't entirely explicit in this case, i suppose...
> 
> i haven't proofread this so if you see a typo send me an email and i'll stick a needle through my arm in penance
> 
> title is partially taken from "frogs" by alice in chains
> 
> (Edit aug 2020: lol this sucks read something else)

Even when he caught a break, Ryotaro Dojima couldn't catch a break. He  _ was  _ waiting on some work from the boys in the lab and it  _ was  _ a pretty uneventful weekend, so why overwork himself? It would do him some good to take a night off. That was what Adachi had said, and Dojima couldn't really argue. Good kid, that Adachi. Dull as he could be, he had an awful lot of heart.

A light rain pitter-pattered against Dojima's jacket, which was uncharacteristically draped across his shoulders. Dinnertime had come and gone long ago, but he figured there was enough time left before Nanako's bedtime to satisfy her for a little while. It killed him to think like that - as if she were just another quota to fill - but he simply had other responsibilities to attend to. Responsibilities that, if he ignored them, would mean that he wouldn't be able to feed or house his daughter anyway...

Family. Closing up the driveway gate, Dojima sputtered a morbid chuckle around the last half-inch of his cigarette. Some fucked up family. Nanako couldn't have a mom, and now he was dangling a brother in front of her as if the kid wasn't just going to leave at the end of the year. It's not like she had a dad most of the time, either...  _ Shut up. You're supposed to be enjoying your time off, you miserable old prick. Go in there and do it. Nanako will be happy when she sees you. _

The Dojima residence was uncomfortably quiet. Across the room, his blurry reflection stood on the black glass of the television screen. Apart from him, nobody was there. He hadn't announced his presence, but there's no way Nanako wouldn't have come running the moment she heard the door. There was a scrap of paper on the table.

_ (Nanako at friend's house  _

_ pork in fridge, help yourself _

_ -Yu) _

Oh. 

Embarrassingly, Dojima's first thought was of the case of beer in the fridge. His partying days were long over (if they'd ever really begun), and he'd grown to appreciate the sheer utility of alcohol more than anything. He liked to be there for Nanako or even Yu whenever he was feeling talkative, but when he came home at, say, midnight, he could do nothing but sit and listen to his own shitty thoughts until sleep mercifully pulled him away from it all for a brief moment. After eight or nine (or ten) drinks, the him inside himself seemed less willing (or perhaps able) to dish out quite as many insults and unfortunate truths. 

Well, he knew Yu wasn't asleep. He'd seen his light from outside. The kid was old enough to understand that Dojima needed a drink every once in a while. Maybe it was more than 'every once in a while', but he was alone most of the time, anyway, so it's not like anyone would know that. He put his hand on the fridge door, and Nanako crossed his mind again.

Was she happy?

How could she be?

How could he have thought about  _ beer _ before his own fucking daughter?

There he went again, cursing himself, clenching his teeth, glaring at nothing…

_ You piece of garbage. You call yourself a father? _

_ (Ah!) _

Dojima's head snapped to his left.  _ That  _ sound hadn't come from his internal monologue. It was vaguely masculine: a stifled cry of pain that sounded  _ nothing  _ like Yu, despite having come from his room…

Bending over, Dojima retrieved a small American revolver from an ankle holster on his right leg. He didn't like to carry a gun  _ period _ , but he especially didn't want it on his hip in front of Nanako. With a trained and careful silence, Dojima snuck towards the staircase. 

Soon, it was abundantly clear that the source of the sound was anything but an intruder. Through the thin walls travelled various rhythmic sounds, accompanied by a now obviously male whisper:

_ "Oh god- Yu- fuck me-  _ **_fuck me-"_ **

Dojima paused. In the blink of an eye, he envisioned what might transpire if he stuck around. Locked into a state of fight-or-flight, he felt almost nothing as he imagined the awkward conversations and explanations that would be shared if he made his presence known. Clearly, Yu had not expected him to be there, and his mere existence had thrown them both into an unknowing deadlock. The only way to fix it would be to leave. 

As soon as the fresh, outside air hit him once again, a slew of emotions pegged Dojima like a fastball to the face. He wasn't quite sure how disgusted to be. At first, he decided that it was pretty unremarkable that his nephew was sexually active. It wasn't like Dojima hadn't had his own high school flings. Second, however, he felt a twinge of jealousy welling up from somewhere. That would have been bad enough on its own, but  _ christ, _ being jealous of your teenage nephew? For what? Having  _ sex?  _ The novelty of  _ that _ had worn off long before he'd even found Chisato. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy or even look forward to sex, but more that, by the time he decided to settle down, the act was more of an assumption than an exception. Chisato was not his first girlfriend, and when they were together, sex was not something that you snuck off to do. It wasn't something you were constantly,  _ constantly _ worrying about hiding from others. In that way, Dojima supposed he longed for another time. Yu had clearly planned his little liaison around Dojima's supposed absence - a practice that Dojima himself was absolutely hip to. He wasn't  _ that _ old. How long had it been since he, too, was pulling the same old tricks? How long had it been since he was in love? How long had it been since he didn't have to trick _ anyone  _ to make love?

A sickness formed both in his heart and his stomach. Dojima didn't think about sex. How could he be jealous? The only things that mattered were Nanako and his job. Yu, too, sure, but… maybe he was just too old anymore. Too late to start something new. His joints ached, and fuck, he could hardly read anything that was too close to his face. He didn't have time to date. When would he? When he retired? When the  _ fuck  _ was he gonna  _ retire!?  _

Dojima stumbled down the sidewalk. He needed a drink. No, he needed lots of drinks. He flipped open his cell phone...

"Dojima-san? What-"

"Adachi! Hey, what's up?"

"I'm doing some paperwork, what are y-"

"Listen, you want to come have a drink with me?"

"Are y-"

"I just figured it's unfair that I get to go home early and you're stuck there with that… uhm-"

"Paperwork."

"-paperwork, yeah. So how about it?"

"Is Nanak-"

"Not home."

Through the fuzz of whatever cell tower was transmitting their call, Dojima heard the rustling and flipping of pages. 

"You're... sure it's okay?"

"Yeah. Come pick me up, I'm just down the street from my house."

Mercifully, Adachi agreed without questions. Dojima figured that, coming from him, it was more of an order than anything. This was not an investigation, which meant that the line between a stupid question and a reasonable one was considerably thinner. 

Dojima was nearly finished with another cigarette by the time the headlights hit his face. He let himself in the passenger door.

"Hi, sir."

"Hey, Adachi."

"The usual place?"

"I was hoping you knew about somewhere more… populous."

The younger man scrunched his nose up just a little.

"Oh. Well, maybe. No guarantees."

"Nn."

Dojima grunted, staring out at the dark facades lining the street. The motor revved. As lights flickered past the unmarked sedan, Dojima's eyes crept to the far right corners of their sockets. Adachi. What a guy. Sure, he was just following orders to some degree, but it's not like there wasn't an argument to be made that his time would be better spent getting work done. Dojima wasn't the god-king of the small town police - there were still  _ rules  _ to that shit… Regardless - and despite his many fuck-ups - Adachi remained loyal to the point where he was still clearly fighting his own fight rather than just bringing Dojima his coffee and slippers every morning. He wasn't  _ dog _ loyal. He was something more. 

He was  _ also _ wearing that shirt. It was a stupid, pathetic thing to notice, Dojima figured, but he noticed it nonetheless. Even if the collar wasn't a giveaway, he knew it well enough… Adachi had borrowed it once, having spilled food on his own shirt (or maybe it was booze or piss or sheep's blood, for all Dojima could remember) before work. He'd spent the night at Dojima's house, and he left the following morning in Dojima's clothes. The thing was noticeably too big for his twiggy frame, but his jacket hid that fact well enough. Even after Dojima laundered his partner's shirt (or rather, Nanako had) and returned it, he never got his own garment back… Adachi wearing Dojima's clothes… think of it! Dojima shouldn't stand for that crap! Who the shit did Adachi think he was, Dojima's girlfriend?

Oh well. There was no way Dojima could keep that kind of energy up. Truth was, it was endearing more than anything. He chuckled softly to himself.

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

"Well, we're here."

Neither the inside nor outside of the bar was particularly different from the usual shithole they went to.

"What's this place, again?"

"Dunno. Heard about it from Takeda-san."

Sheesh. Fucking cops. Apparently they've all got consistently bad taste in bars, at least in Inaba. 

Dojima hoisted himself onto a stool, observing the ugly fliers plastered on the walls. In the far corner, past a series of booths, there was a… well, it wasn't really a stage. It might as well have been a wood pallet. Beside it leaned a flimsy-looking steel string acoustic guitar, one whose owner seemed to not care enough about to buy a stand for. Dojima cringed, imagining the kind of fourth-rate act that had to take gigs at a third-rate joint like this. He almost wanted to get up and run his hand across the strings just to confirm that they were out of tune. 

Then, something caught his eye. A woman, not much younger than Dojima, was coming back from the bathroom to her seat. She looked fairly average - though, when compared to the environment they were in, she might as well have been an angel. Her looks hadn't been what caught Dojima's attention per se, it was more the tired look in her eyes. The way she sighed when she sat down, not even noticing that two other men had entered and taken their own seats. 

Before he could continue his train of thought, Dojima was interrupted by the approach of the bartender. Adachi eagerly ordered first. 

"Hey, so, do you guys have cranberry juice?"

A nod.

"Can I get some of that with a little bit of whiskey mixed in?"

Another nod. He looked at Dojima, still silent. 

"Just the whiskey." 

Either the woman still hadn't noticed them, or she had and didn't seem to care. She sat before a nearly-empty pint glass with just a sip of amber at the bottom. 

"Here ya go. Thanks, fellas."

Adachi grabbed his drink with both hands and took a sip.

Ice cubes clinking, Dojima slugged his in one gulp. 

Through his resulting grimace, he saw the woman take a quick glance at him. The bartender, ever attentive, was back already. 

"More?"

"'Til I say stop, big guy."

"Sure thing."

From his right:

"Hey, Dojima-san? If something was wrong, would you tell me?"

Already cringing from his second gulp of straight liquor, Dojima spun in his seat. 

"What the hell does that mean, Adachi?"

Eye contact staggered and fell.

"Well, I know you're not big on talking about stuff if it's too personal, but you're awful quiet tonight, and-"

It was true. Dojima was plenty willing to talk about his home life - hell, Adachi was practically his own little Cosmo Kramer as far as house privileges went ( Do they get Seinfeld in Japan? That would be cool. ) - but he had a hard enough time convincing himself to suck up whatever frustrations or disappointments came his way. He didn't want to dig them back out and show them off to his friends. That said, Adachi really did mean well. They weren't on the job, so why give the kid a hard time?

"Nah, nah, I'm alright. Kids are out. I didn't think there was much point drinking alone at home."

Adachi smiled. 

"Sure, right."

It was partially a lie, but Dojima believed it now. He was much better off having someone to talk to. Small talk, shit talk, whatever it was, it would probably be a better diversion than nothing at all. He leaned forward with a devilish glint in his eye. 

_ "You see that lady over there? What do you think?" _

_ "D-dojima-san, you're not gonna-" _

_ "Shh, shh, just tell me. Should I say something? She looks pretty bored." _

_ "Are you gonna try and… flirt? With her? _

_ "Why? Is something wrong with her?" _

_ "No, it's just… it's just not very 'you', sir." _

_ "I can live with that. What do I say?" _

_ "Dojima-san, man, I'm sorry, but my last couple of relationships ended pretty badly. I don't think I'm the one to ask, here. I… guess you should just be yourself, if that's not too cliche." _

Well, Dojima hadn't expected much, and Adachi at least offered  _ something.  _ How hard could it be to introduce himself to someone? He'd attempted the same thing plenty of times as a young man. He stood, pushed his chest out just a little bit, and strode confidently across the bar.

"Sorry, mister. I'm not working yet. You're here awful early, ya know?"

Whatever silly greeting Dojima was concocting in his head self destructed. 

"I- uh, …'working?'"

"Sure. For a big, handsome guy like you, 5000 an hour would sound good."

A prostitute? In Inaba? Dojima cursed himself for not having stamped something like that out already. He supposed that if his co-workers frequented the place, then they may have leveraged their authority to keep it running out of sight of both him and the general public. Regardless of the truth, the idea made Dojima nauseous. He wanted to get down on his knees and apologize to Chisato for even brushing shoulders with the idea of paying for sex. He mumbled an apology and returned to his seat.

_ "This doesn't look good. What happened?" _

_ "She's a whore." _

_ "Dojima-san! How can you s-" _

_ "No, I mean it. She's a prostitute." _

_ "Oh. Isn't that illegal?" _

Dojima thought for a moment. Yeah, he could probably do something about it, but that would be  _ work.  _ He told himself he was going to try to relax, god damn it. How well was that going? He was only two drinks deep in a shitty bar, his prospects of socializing were tits-up, and he was hating himself more and more by the second. 

His drink was full again, until it wasn't. 

What the fuck was the point? Yu was probably done with  _ his _ fun - and it sounded like he was having a lot more than Dojima was - so he might as well just go home and drink his own beer alone. To his side:

"More for you?"

"No thanks, I gotta drive later."

"Mm. How thoughtful."

The bartender topped off Dojima's glass again, and it was empty just as quick. Before it could be filled yet again, Dojima stood up. 

"That's enough, thanks."

"Huh?"

It kind of looked like Adachi was disappointed that they were leaving. He couldn't be  _ that _ into this place…

Dojima paid without responding, which Adachi didn't seem to like.

"Hey, c'mon, Dojima-san! What gives?"

"Shaddup, Adachi."

A slight twinge of genuine pain crept into Adachi's eyes.  _ Sorry, bud. I get that you're trying to help, but right now I just need you to either stop prying or keep your damn mouth shut. _

Soon, both men were back in the car. Adachi was holding the keys and staring at the wheel instead of, well,  _ using _ it. Dojima sideyed his frozen partner, not quite sure if the kid's single juice-slash-whiskey was too much or if he'd finally snapped and was seconds from going cuckoo berserk. Neither answer was right.

"Dojima-san, I'm sorry… but I'm not starting this car until you talk to me."

"Then I'll walk home."

Adachi punched his own knee, fist clenched and knuckles white. He was finally staring Dojima in the face. 

" _ Damn it!  _ What do you  _ want  _ from me? Look at you, you're a  _ wreck!  _ You don't think it hurts me to have to see that? You don't think I wanna  _ help?" _

While the sudden burst of emotion didn't quite urge Dojima into any kind of tearful soap-opera speech, he was honestly thoroughly impressed. Adachi could be a really passionate guy if he wanted to. Why did he hide it so often? Whatever. Dojima couldn't ignore it now, Adachi had earned the right to know.

But… to know what? What  _ was  _ wrong with Dojima? Sure, there were the obvious things, but what really pushed his buttons that night? ...could he get away with a half-truth again?

"Seems like… Well, it seems like Yu has a boyfriend."

Total bewilderment trumped the anger on Adachi's face. 

"You're… mad because your nephew is gay?"

"No! No, I'm just-"

Dojima fidgeted in his seat.

"- I mean… do  _ you  _ have one, Adachi?"

"A-a boyfriend? Uh, no."

_ "No, _ a- girl or boy, I was- look, that's not my  _ point…  _ I was just thinking about how easy it used to be. To date, you know? I guess I can't say I've really tried it since…"

"Right…"

"It doesn't feel right. How could I be with another woman? I'd just be thinking about  _ her _ the whole time. That wouldn't be fair for anyone..."

Having long since lost the nerve to face Adachi, Dojima stared at the dingy light in the bar window. It was no more comforting a sight. 

"...and to just throw all of that on Nanako? 'This is your new mommy now?' How the hell is she supposed to understand-"

A hand was on his shoulder. It squeezed just a little bit, rubbing up his collarbone. Dojima felt startlingly warm all of the sudden. When was the last time he was touched like that? He gave the occasional hug, he nudged people accidentally… when was the last time someone  _ touched  _ him  _ on purpose?  _ For  _ any reason!?  _ He turned around, and whatever thought he was in the middle of vanished. Adachi's eyes widened, and he withdrew, shrinking himself against the inside of the car door.

"Oh, sorry, I was just-"

"No. Put it back."

"Sir?"

"That's an order, Adachi."

"S-sure."

Once again, that cautious hand massaged Dojima's shoulder, heating his insides. His thoughts were jumping between clarity and frustration, still cursing himself for his own perceived weaknesses. Adachi's fingertips pressed into him. After a brief, unsure silence, he spoke up.

"Sorry. Sorry about the whole, 'that's an order' thing. I don't want to pressure you into doing something you don't want to."

"I'm just trying to comfort you, sir. It's fine. Heck, I was the one who did it first. It's not  _ that _ scandalous, _ heh-heh…" _

Dojima grunted in tacit affirmation. Sure, he hadn't thought about it that way at first, but it did feel awfully good, what Adachi was doing. Pathetic as it was, it was the most 'action' he'd gotten in years, and it was awakening a beast inside of him that had laid dormant for almost that long. Dojima didn't think about sex, and he didn't get jealous over sex. Except that, tonight, he  _ was  _ jealous. Yu inadvertently broke the loop. He poked Dojima's libido out of its delicately balanced orbit, sending it tumbling into the sun - his brain. Or was it the booze? He'd only had a few drinks, but he'd had them fast. ...that said, he wasn't  _ drunk.  _ He was in full control. No, he couldn't pawn that feeling off on the drinking. Overcome with himself, Dojima turned to fully face Adachi and asked rather flatly:

"Would you make love to me, Adachi?"

The other man sputtered slightly, then fell silent without an answer. Dojima wasn't going to beg, but…

"You're all I have. You don't have to do it, but just know I appreciate that I have you at all."

Finally:

"Well, I wouldn't try that line on a chick, but I think I'd be willing to take that step for you, sir. As long as it makes you happy."

Jesus christ. Jesus fucking  _ christ.  _ Dojima, you  _ moron!  _ How could you say something like that - something so dramatic, so weak, so  _ tactless _ \- and to a coworker, no less? Talk about a conflict of interests. Of course, just bang your right-hand-man, that'll fix all your problems. What was more frustrating was that it had  _ worked.  _ Evidently, Adachi was either already romantically interested in Dojima and just hadn't said anything or was willing to screw him because he was his superior. Dojima couldn't decide which was worse. Their relationship - close though they undoubtedly were - always operated under the pretense of professionalism. It was just business. Shit, they didn't even  _ have  _ to like each other. They just did, and apparently, a few more feelings were mutual than Dojima had initially thought. 

"Nn… We'll go to my place. Yu should be asleep by now."

"I thought you said-"

"Shaddup, Adachi."

Adachi must have seen Dojima's weak smile, because he smiled too. 

It was a silent car ride. Dojima might have felt conflicted - might have been repulsed at himself for fooling around with his  _ assistant,  _ might have imagined what Chisato had to say about it - but the feeling of Adachi's touch lingered still in his body. It wrapped tightly around his heart and guts, conquering his brain. Seizing his breath. He thought about what it would be like. He'd been curious in the past, but he'd never lain with another man. He hoped to god that Adachi knew what he was doing. Was it the same as what you do with a woman? With kissing and touching and all that? If he kissed Adachi, would Adachi kiss back?

Dojima was becoming embarrassingly erect. The rumble of the road against the car's tires didn't help. 

Yu's light was indeed off. Wordlessly, Dojima closed the driveway gate and made his way into his house. As he trod across the threshold, he realized he hadn't breathed in a while. In fact, he was practically tip-toeing into his own house. His heart raced; was he…  _ sneaking around?  _ There was his room. 

As Adachi shut the door behind them, Dojima looked at his bed. Dully, he realized that he'd be using the whole width of it, instead of just tossing and turning or sleeping on the couch. It was hard to sleep alone in a bed made for two people. 

"Sir?"

Dojima turned, pulled out of his brief daydream. There was Adachi, whose face was slightly redder than normal. How old was he? 25? 26? How could someone like that want an old, bitter prick like Dojima? 

Fabric ruffled under Dojima's fingers. He had drawn close to Adachi, slinging his arms around the kid, squeezing against his back. Though he cried out softly in surprise, Adachi seemed to get the picture quickly, sliding his own hands up the other man's considerably larger frame. Dojima leaned in. Clumsily, he pulled Adachi's lower lip between his own. The actions and movements came instinctually, but they had been obscured by the passing of time. He slipped the tip of his tongue out, catching a bit of Adachi's lip, and then his teeth. It should have been second nature - it should have worked - but it didn't quite feel right. He would have likely been more ashamed of himself had his heart not been beating at a thousand beats per minute. Besides, tongue kissing wasn't all he could do. He had plenty of other chances to fail.

Hangups aside, it was surprisingly easy for Dojima to kiss another man. Perhaps it was Adachi's attitude - the way he softly returned Dojima's advances, gentle and coy. He was almost girly in his demeanor. Did he think that was what Dojima wanted, or was that just the way he was? Nevertheless, something creaked to life inside Dojima. Things were starting to make sense again, and he only needed a little more time to knock the rust off. 

Pulling away slightly, Dojima moved his hands from the man's back to his shoulders and pushed. Adachi stumbled back, his heels stopping him against the wall. He may have caught himself, but Dojima kept pushing - pushing with his arms, pushing with his body, pushing with his mouth - until Adachi's head was sandwiched tightly against the wall. He thumbed the button on Adachi's coat open, wrestling it off of his shoulders and onto the floor. 

_ "Sir-" _

Whoops. Maybe he'd gotten a little  _ too  _ into the moment. He gave Adachi some breathing room.

"Sorry, was that too-"

"No, don't stop. I just got a little excited."

If Adachi's face wasn't already red, it certainly was now. Dojima was amused at how bothered his partner was getting.  _ Yep. I still got it. _

He pressed into Adachi again, and with each attack of his lips, he unbuttoned another button on the other man's shirt, finally working down to the belt. With both arms occupied, he pushed with his chest to keep Adachi pinned. 

_ "Ah, sir!" _

With the belt undone, Dojima reached past it and through the elastic waistband underneath. It was somewhat odd, touching another man like that. He knew what to do, but it was all backwards. It didn't seem to matter, because Adachi was whining and squirming against his weight. 

_ "Do- jima- san- wait-" _

He did, once again relinquishing his hold over Adachi, including his grip down there. The man stared up with a pathetic sort of look, already out of breath.

"This is good, but… you  _ have  _ a bed."

A smirk.

"Hell, I suppose I do. Good thinking. That's what I pay you for."

Pulling his clothes the rest of the way off, Adachi made his way to the foot of the bed. 

"It's… really not."

"Shaddup, Adachi."

In a moment, Adachi was on his back, lying on the pristinely tucked in sheets of the bed, and just as quickly, Dojima was hunkered over him. This time, however, Adachi's neck was his target. Each kiss inched just a bit lower - across his collarbone, over his chest, once or twice on his nipples - in a motion that Dojima knew Chisato had been fond of.

Fuck, god damn it. Not  _ now.  _ He thought he was too horny to get emotional, but somehow she snuck past. She always did. With no shortage of shame, he stuffed the thoughts into the corner of his mind and kept kissing.

When his lips finally met the sparse scruff that constituted Adachi's pubic hair, Dojima stopped and stared. The kid was hard, and just about average-sized. Dojima had  _ received _ his fair share of blowjobs, but… was the etiquette different in this case?

"Do you want me to, uh…"

"Well, I guess you  _ could,  _ but if you don't wanna, that's okay too."

Dojima stared up his partner's body and into his half-shut eyes.

"I  _ want _ to make you feel good. This doesn't have to be all about  _ my _ sorry ass."

"Okay. I'd… I'd like you to do that, then."

A heartbeat pumped against Dojima's hand as he gripped Adachi and tugged down. His lips slipped over the tip, and he lapped at the underside with his tongue. He may not have ever done it before, but Dojima knew what felt good. He had had to describe it to Chisato, since she-

Stop. Shut the fuck up. Listen:

_ "Ngh- sir- mmnh- gosh-" _

There. That's what's important right now. 

Spurred on by the noise, Dojima attempted to push more of Adachi inside of him. It proved harder than anticipated, but he soon fell into a rhythm that accommodated a decent amount of Adachi's length with every bob of his head. It wasn't long before something tapped his arm.

_ "Stop, stop, stopstopstopstop-" _

With a gulp of air, he did.

"What, what's wrong?"

"I just didn't want to, uh,  _ cum  _ before we, y'know,  _ finished." _

Dojima would have made fun of Adachi for acting so squeamish about saying stuff like that, but he wasn't sure if he could say it out loud either.

"Oh. Sure, right. So, should I, uh… You… ready?"

"I'd like it if you could warm me up a little, but yeah."

Dojima cocked an eyebrow, feeling stupid. 

"...uh…"

"Like, stretch it out... a little. Do you have any lube?"

"O-oh. No, I never… no."

"Petroleum jelly? Olive oil?"

"We've got some Vaseline in the bathroom cupboard."

Adachi nodded. Given the moment to breathe, Dojima found that he was extremely on edge. He wasn't  _ uncomfortable,  _ but things were happening so fast and so many of those things were new to him… He felt rebellious, like he was pulling one over on some unseen authority. Shortly, he was back in his room. Adachi was absently touching himself.

Kneeling at the edge of the bed, Dojima popped the top off of the Vaseline and dipped his index finger inside. 

"I should start with one, right?"

"Yeah, to start with-  _ nnh-" _

Dojima massaged the thick substance onto Adachi's entrance until it was shiny and slick. There was something strange and mesmerising about the way it clenched and winked against his finger, likely because he'd never ventured so far down south when he was with Chisa-

_ Shut up. _

He slipped a cautious finger inside, no further than the first knuckle. Looking up, he noticed that Adachi was looking down expectantly, so he pushed the rest of the way inside. 

"Ohhh _ hhhh man.  _ Oh  _ jeez…" _

"What? Does it hurt?"

"N-no, no- More, please, sir…"

In compliance, Dojima pushed another finger inside. Adachi was tugging and squeezing at him, gyrating his hips ever so slightly. 

_ "I-I'm ready." _

………

Yu couldn't sleep. The past few hours looped in his mind, still vibrant and clear. If they hadn't been before, he and Yosuke were definitely a 'thing' now. They'd explored and experimented in the past, but never had enough time alone to escalate things. Nanako's absence was the perfect excuse, and as much as it didn't please Yu to profit from his uncle's misfortune, it was lucky that the guy seemed to be busy all day every day. Finally. Finally, they'd done it. How could he sleep, especially now that Yosuke had gone home? He wanted nothing more than to sleep with that familiar weight beside him, arms wrapped tight, the smell of his hair…

Defeated, Yu rolled out of bed. If he couldn't sleep, maybe he shouldn't. He  _ was  _ kinda hungry, anyway. After confirming that he was indeed no longer alone with a peek out the window at the driveway, he made his way towards the steps. 

The food he'd prepared for Dojima was still in the fridge, wrapped in plastic. Oh well. Maybe it would be Monday's lunch. He shut the door and reached towards the cupboard for a glass.

_ "-agh-" _

Who the hell was that? It certainly wasn't Dojima. Yu crept closer to his uncle's room, ear keenly trained on-

" _ yes- sir- please- yes-" _

An easily recognizable voice faded in, barely audible. 

...Adachi-san?

Yu had had his suspicions…

Nevertheless, it was neither his business, nor was it particularly appealing to think about. Empty-handed, Yu tiptoe-sprinted back to his room.

………

Thought eluded Dojima. He had spent so much time chastising himself for coming onto his assistant, desperately batting away thoughts of his departed wife, and focusing on regaining the carnal confidence he used to have that by the time he was hilt-deep inside of Adachi, he could hardly think past what was in front of him. Unfortunately, what  _ was _ in front of him could not help unravel whatever inner conflict the act may have spurred on, and was instead goading him to continue. Begging, more like. 

His fingers interlocked with Adachi's, and every quickening thrust brought forth another cry of helpless ecstasy, some of which were muffled by more savage kisses from Dojima. The kid was tight - tighter than anything he'd ever felt - and Dojima almost felt ashamed at how soon it was before he was teetering on the edge, moments from spilling over.

"Ada-  _ chi…" _

Too close now. His insides sparkled with a horrible crescendo of pleasure, filling his groin with heat and pressure... heat and pressure… His head swam. He was lost inside the sensation, lost inside Adachi… lost inside of himself.

"A-  _ dachi… I… I love you-" _

There was no time to make excuses. There was no time to take it back. By the time the words were uttered, he was already quivering, unloading years' worth of stress into Adachi. Years' worth of doubt and self-hatred. It all flashed before him for only a brief moment. 

Where was he? 

Oh, right. 

Dojima stepped off the bed, his chest heaving considerably from the exertion. Given by the white-ish wet spots on Adachi's belly, he had finished, too, and was just as winded. That was hardly Dojima's concern.

"I- uhm… I'm sorry, Adachi. It just… slipped out."

"It's okay, sir. I understand. If you could grab a towel, though…"

………

Things had gotten quiet again. Adachi had showered quickly, and Dojima had just returned from his own. Even after having sated his sexual appetite, he found it difficult to focus on whatever had been bothering him before. He could  _ imagine  _ what was wrong - could remember why he had been so hopeless - but he couldn't stir up the energy to feel like he had mere hours earlier. As he slipped on a t-shirt and shorts, he almost lamented the absence of those depressing truths. Negative forces were an easy source of motivation for a cop like him. Perhaps it was a sign. To do what, just move on? He couldn't. Didn't really want to, even. One thing was certain: something inside of him was different now. Whether it was good or bad, short-term or permanent… only time would tell.

Finally, he motioned to Adachi - who had been sitting patiently and silently on the edge of the bed - to lay down. Soon, they were bundled together under the covers, with Adachi tucked neatly into Dojima's arms. 

_ "Hey, Dojima-San? Sir? I, uh… I love you too." _

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, you can follow me at @DegenerateMoron


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